James Etheridge

If you were young and single from the early Seventies until the early Eighties, Memorial Drive, a stretch of about five miles from I-285 to Highway 78, was the place to be. The DeKalb County jail was at one end and Stone Mountain was at the other. It got the name Hamburger Alley because every fast food joint known to man at the time had a place on Memorial Drive. In fact, Burger King and Wendy’s each had two, one on each end. Along with them were McDonald’s, Kentucky Fried Chicken, Dairy Queen, Churches, Long John Silver’s, Taco Pronto, Waffle House, Arby’s and an A&W Root Beer stand, just to name a few.

There were also plenty of chain sit-down restaurants such as Applebee’s, Denny’s, Red Lobster, Coco’s, Pizza Hut and Steak and Ale. Shakey’s Pizza was the place where I learned how to drink beer. The first Hooters I ever ventured into was on Memorial Drive. Turtle’s Records and Tapes was up on the I-285 end, behind the Burger King. And we certainly can’t forget about Farmer John’s Smorgasbord, located a few doors down from Turtle’s.

Besides the chains, there were quite a few independently owned places along Hamburger Alley, great little places such as Caravan’s Crab Shack, Margaritaville and Murray’s Subs. If Shakey’s was where I learned to drink beer, Caravan’s was where I learned to eat oysters. They sold them for a dollar-fifty a dozen. The oysters were about the size of a quarter, but for a buck-fifty a dozen who cared? Murray’s Subs was across the street and up the road a bit and had the greatest subs this side of New York. When I lived in Ramblewood Apartments just off of Memorial Drive, I would buy a foot-long sub from Murray’s, eat half of it that evening and the second half for lunch the next day. That was how you did things when you were twenty-one, single and living the carefree life on Hamburger Alley.

A group of buddies and I were kicked out of Taco Pronto, sort of. In the early days of our young, carefree and financially challenged bachelorhood, we would go to Shakey’s and drink as much beer as our near-empty pockets would allow. Then we would ride down the road to Taco Pronto and get a burrito. Taco Pronto was where I was introduced to burritos, another first in my life. I learned a lot about fine dining on Hamburger Alley. One night my buddies went to Shakey’s and then hit the burrito place. I wasn’t there, so I don’t know exactly what transpired. Apparently, words were exchanged between one of my friends and the lady behind the counter. From what I was told, he ordered a beef burrito and she brought him a bean. He told her that wasn’t what he ordered, she said it was and refused to change it. Things escalated and to make a long story short, my buddies left, circled the building and flung the incorrect burrito against one of the glass windows before hauling ass out of the parking lot. The next time we went in, the lady behind the counter refused to serve us. I asked her why. Pointing at my friend, she said, “Cuz him, an’ two o’ his friends, throwed beans on our winduh! It cost us a hunnert dollars to git them winduhs clean! Now y’all better git yore asses outta here afore I call th’ po-lice!” We muttered under our breath, stomped outside, climbed in the car, mooned them through the window as we came around the building and drove off laughing hysterically.

And then there were the bars.

Memorial Drive was without a doubt the hottest strip on the east side of town. You could spend an entire night cruising from one end to the other and back again, hitting every hot spot along the way. From I-285 to Stone Mountain, there was Flynn’s, Manuel’s, Hooters, Copperfield’s, Midnighter’s, The Rusty Nail, Thunderbirds, Stagger Lee’s, Danny’s, Harlow’s and The Stone Pony. Manuel’s Tavern opened a location on Memorial Drive at Rockbridge Road in 1976. It was a great neighborhood bar. Several friends and I were regulars there. It was open about thirty years. The last time we stopped in was on a Saturday night and hardly anyone was there. It was pretty sad.

And of course, there was Uncle Tom’s Tavern.

Uncle Tom’s, at the corner of Memorial and Hambrick Road, was originally a steak house. That all changed in the late Seventies when it was converted to a bar. Not long after a larger room was opened up downstairs adjacent to the upstairs bar. Featuring live bands, Uncle Tom’s quickly became one of the hottest nightspots in Atlanta. Prominent local bands played there regularly and the place quickly developed a rowdy reputation. Pool tables were in the back right corner by the bar and a huge dance floor. You could count on at least one or two fights on weekend nights. I managed to avoid any myself, but saw enough to rival Georgia Championship Wrestling. There were also the standard barroom extracurricular activities there, such as wet t-shirt contests, banana eating contests (use your imagination) and the Georgia State Arm Wrestling Finals. One other interesting note about Uncle Tom’s: In the movie The Blues Brothers, which was released in 1980, the scene at the soul food diner that features Aretha Franklin and Matt “Guitar” Murphy, Murphy is wearing an Uncle Tom’s Tavern t-shirt. And, it’s the Memorial Drive Uncle Tom’s, not another one from somewhere else. They sold them at the bar and I owned one. You can still purchase them online. Here is a link, as well as a picture from the movie. https://www.seapparelinc.com/deals/Uncle-Toms-Tavern-T-Shirt-p173338363

The video of the scene is included in the sidebar.

The Stone Pony, located in the Village Square shopping center, was another large club that featured prominent local bands. The Stone Pony was a bit larger and more upscale than Uncle Tom’s, but was a great place with a big stage and dance floor. It was directly adjacent to the Village Square apartment complex. Of all the complexes such as Woodcroft, Ramblewood, La Carre and Mountain Trace, which were on and around Memorial Drive, Village Square was by far the epitome of the singles apartment life in the Seventies. A sprawling complex with tennis courts, ball fields, multiple swimming pools, saunas and indoor racquetball courts, Village Square had everything a young, single tenant could possibly want right within arms reach, not to mention being a stone’s throw from the nightlife of Memorial Drive. The clubhouse was huge and featured a large indoor swimming pool. Located downstairs was a semi-private nightclub with a big full-service bar, a dance floor and a bandstand. The kicker was that behind the bar was one of the pool walls, which was plexiglass. Everyone in the bar could see swimmers in the pool, so discretion was necessary when skinny-dipping. But come on, it was the Seventies. Nobody cared.

On Sunday afternoons, scores of folks would flock to Stone Mountain on Sunday. Carloads would cruise the roads around The Rock and all congregate at the parking lot on the back side of the mountain. When the lot filled up, people would start parking along the curbs on the side of the roads and there was a steady stream of cars crawling by. It was inevitable that you were going to run into someone you knew, had once known or recently met, maybe even the night before and hoped to get to know them better.

There was a big field across from the parking lot and it was always full of couples and groups throwing Frisbees, sitting on blankets or dancing to transistor radios. There would often be a football, softball or soccer game going on. People would be sitting on the fenders and hoods of cars in the parking lot with the radios or 8-track tape players blaring. No matter where you went on Saturday night, Stone Mountain was the place to be on Sunday afternoon.

Hamburger Alley is long gone, of course. It’s pretty sad to see Memorial Drive now. Most of the old places are now braid or nail salons, title pawn places or Caribbean restaurants. Wendy’s and Burger King are still near I-285. Flynn’s was replaced years ago by an extended-stay motel. Denny’s is a used car lot. Western Sizzlin’ is a package stone, The Rusty Nail a Food Mart. Shakey’s is a tire and wheel place, Jilly’s sits boarded up. Taco Pronto, where my friends throwed beans on their winduhs, is now an Ethiopian Restaurant and Lounge. DQ is a hair salon. McDonald’s is slap gone. It’s pretty sad when McDonald’s not only leaves, but also tears down the building. In its place is a Budgetel hotel. The Original Pancake House, which was previously the A&W Root Beer stand, is still there and looks surprisingly well kept. The Stonemont Theatre, where I first saw Star Wars, Superman and countless other movies, is nothing more than an empty lot. Uncle Tom’s became a Piccadilly, of all things, and a strip mall. Steak And Ale is torn down. The Stone Pony became The Fireplace, then turned into Xanadu, going full-blown disco before fading into oblivion. Village Square apartments are still there, but I doubt if it embodies the lifestyle it used to. Hooter’s is now a Starship Enterprises, which I suppose is somewhat appropriate.

But, for me personally, the saddest is Manuel’s Tavern. The Maloof family closed the Memorial Drive location sometime in the mid-2000s. They held an auction and sold off the bar, fixtures, decorations and memorabilia. My ex-brother-in-law went to the auction. I couldn’t go. I probably would have broke down and cried. In its place is a 24/7 laudromat.

Memorial Drive was a place that embodied the wild and crazy times of the Seventies in Atlanta, when our city was not only the Crown Jewel of The South, but also a shining light as to what a city could and should be. Sadly, those days are gone. I have read about a revitalization plan for Memorial Drive that is being met with “cautious optimism.”  It won’t happen.  Atlanta has morphed into an urban dystopia virtually like every other city in America. It is not coming back. But the memories are there. They always will be.